


The Most Important Thing

by GlitterAnts



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 01:52:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterAnts/pseuds/GlitterAnts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the best thing that happened to Stiles that day. The most important. All thanks to that fucking pole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Most Important Thing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wolfbeater](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfbeater/gifts), [twerkinshield](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twerkinshield/gifts).



> I accidentally wrote a prompt in my tags again and this was the result. Oops. It's kind of stupid and probably entirely ooc but I hope people enjoy it anyway! 
> 
> yay! First fic on Ao3 boop
> 
> This was written for my darlings [Emily](http://feministcas.tumblr.com) & [Emily](http://wolfbeater.tumblr.com) and you should definitely go read their stuff and follow them on tumblr, because if you aren't already you're seriously missing out! 
> 
> I know the title sucks, I'm sorry.

The street was busy, as usual. It was just another day, a Monday to be specific. Although that wasn't important. Important, was what happened on that sunny afternoon.

He was on an errand, walking through the mob of strangers that seem to insist on walking like fucking zombies or race cars. Depending on the space on the sidewalk he traveled. The boss man would most likely have had a field-day for Stiles being so late, if he wasn't a pretty decent guy. But thankfully, he was a decent guy. Stiles was balancing a tray of styrofoam lattes, a greasy bag of fresh hot doughnuts from the bakery, the bag over his shoulder was heavy with maps and blueprints and was also talking with his phone between his shoulder and ear.

Scott had called about something that was apparently urgent. Although, Stiles was beginning to question his definition of urgent as he listened to Scott rant on end about the fabric of throw pillows with matching quilts, in relation to the colour of a certain wall. How he had landed an internship at an interior designing company and Stiles had in architecture? Was far beyond his sense of reason.

"I should have taken that job at Sami Peen's joint," Scott was saying, Stiles scoffed and shook his head, "Seriously, I would rather be twirling my dick in the faces of thirty cougars, than sewing one fucking sequin into a canvas of like thirty thousand sequins. It's so menial, and _stupid_. And did you know, that if one sequin is missing from a row of sewn sequins you have to redo the _entire fucking row_?!"

"I'm pretty sure it's still better than letting your genitals be gaped at by horny women," Stiles assured and hiked up his shoulder just as he caught the eye of a rather decadent piece of man.

Scott's voice dribbled out of his ear for a moment as he raised his eyebrows focusing his gaze at the man just a few feet in front of him. He was fitted in a pair of dark trousers, a sleek suit jacket was hugging his thick shoulders and arms. And just at the thought of being wrapped up in those arms Stiles' mouth started to water. His eyes flashed up to meet Stiles' for an instant, they were a swirl of dazzling green blue and brown, and the most beautiful set of eyes Stiles' had ever seen.

"...guess it would be bad if I had to like, sleep with the clientele. I mean I’m not gay, so it would totally suck if I had to have butt sex." Scott was saying something and Stiles could hear the shiver in his voice. Stiles caught his breath sharply, confusion taking the place of admiration. The man had turned back around, blocking Stiles' view of his face. But before he could, Stiles was left with the image of an annoyed grimace etched into his expression.

"I-What?" Stiles asked and furrowed his brows as he sped up his pace just slightly; the guy was still ahead of him, "I mean it's not much of a stretch I guess. But tell me how we get from dancing naked for money to getting a dick up your ass for money?"

Before Scott could hear an answer Stiles was bursting out into laughter. The noise rocking his body with shakes of glee. The guy in front of him had spun his head around so quickly that Stiles was sure he would suffer from whiplash. But that wasn't the best part of the action.

Because he had turned around to stare at Stiles, obviously eavesdropping like the worst of them, he had ran straight into a post. It was almost like a cartoon skit, with the way his arms flung before him on either side of the poll and a leg lifted in the momentum of halting so suddenly.

Stiles had to stop. In his place on the sidewalk with people rushing past him, knocking him to the side and in a twist as he clutched onto his middle. He heard a distant huff of distaste and with his eyes closed he continued to walk, he couldn't stop from giggles all but shouting from his chest.

And the next thing he knew. He was hitting his forehead against a pole. The same goddamned poll. He landed with a crash of papers, coffee flying from his grasp and his phone cracking against the pavement the exact moment he did. Pain cascaded up his back from the impact to his tailbone and yet he couldn't stop a laugh from bursting out of his lips.

"Fuck!" Stiles laughed as tears from the pain welled in his eyes, his shoulders trembling as he rubbed his forehead and adjusted his glasses. Luckily those hadn't snapped with the smack. And before he knew it, his phone was being stepped on and the screen cracked by a vacant person that hadn't noticed. "Jesus christ! Watch where you're fucking going! Can't you see me sitting here?"

He received a gaping expression but was otherwise was ignored.

Scrambling along the ground Stiles' gathered his things and noticed that his phone was apparently still working because the fractured screen was illuminated with the notice of Scotts picture on an incoming call. Stiles grabbed at it and picked up the exact moment a shadow blocked out the sun for him. Which had him looking up into a smug face.

It was the same guy that had ran into the pole ahead of him. His hand was extended for Stiles to take and he did. He definitely did.

He felt his breath catch in his throat as their hands took hold of each other, but that wasn't exactly what had him speechless. The way those lips, that he could remember were set into the tightest grimace, were now stretched into a soft smile. The sight of it had Stiles second guessing almost his entire existance and how he had lived up to that point without it. They were saying something, smoothly stretching along syllables and Stiles had to shake his head to fall out of his reverie in order to catch the words.

"What?" Stiles asked, and Scott's voice resounded in his ear. Recoiling from the phone at the suddenness of Scott's voice he glanced at the man that still had his fingers in hand. "Let me call you back."

"Wh-" Stiles heard Scott's panicked voice right before he hung up the phone.

"Sorry, I was just," Stiles started and flicked his gaze up to the man's eyebrows that had jolted up in an incredulous look, "you know what. I have no idea what I was doing. And then you-" Stiles gestured around vaguely, "I'm Stiles."

"Derek," the man- Derek replied smoothly and laughed softly, shaking their already clasped hands, "Here, I think you lost this in your fall."

In his free hand was Derek holding the paper bag of doughnuts and Stiles huffed a chuckle, "yeah, those aren't mine exactly, but my managers. The big boss is a sucker for greasy artery clogging circles of dough--or death, which ever way you want to look at them. I mean, I'm one for junk food but these are just too much." Stiles explained and their hands slipped apart.

Derek nodded slowly at his statement, as if contemplating something, "What about coffee? Are you one for that?"

"Well now that's a different story altogether," Stiles said, getting ready to indulge in a conversation about coffee, "That all depends on the flavour and the time of day. I mean you have your Californian brew, which I find best served with breakfast, black so you can get the wake up fix needed. And then theres a smooth Italian bean--my dad introduced me to the wonders of that--which I like to have throughout the day, with just a touch of cream and three sugars. It gives me the sort of kick that I like relate to how I picture an Italian footballer would have-"

"What about for dinner?" Derek interrupted, an amused smile making his lips crooked.

Stiles parted his lips in an 'o' and blinked, rubbing the back of his neck. An embarrassed flush was tinting the tips of his ears with red, and before answering he had to adjust the way his glasses sat on his nose to gather his senses. "I don't know, I try not to have caffeine too late in the day. It makes me all fidgety and hyper and then I can't think, or sleep,"

Derek's lips were falling into a frown as he looked around, there were still people milling about them and for a moment. Stiles could see a flicker of doubt. They had literally just met. Derek had been, minutes before, most likely contemplating whether he should punch Stiles for laughing at him or simply leaving it alone and never seeing him again. Now for some odd reason they were talking. Learning more than strangers should on a first meeting. And Stiles knew Derek was trying to ask him out. 

"I'm gay!" Stiles blurted, back tracking in a panic with his eyes widening when Derek flicked his gaze back to him, raising his very expressive set of eyebrows until they all but lined his hairline, "I mean, I guess I'm bi, because I used to be in love, or well infatuated with this girl named Lydia Martin back in high school but- Oh jesus, that is not the point!"

"What is the point?" Derek asked slowly, his eyes were narrowing and Stiles waved his hands about slightly.

"You- You were going to ask me out. Or well you did, and I fucked it up. Okay, wow, well at least I thought you were. I mean are you gay? Were you going to ask me out?" Stiles asked and stepped a little closer, crimson blotching his cheeks.

Derek's lips were trembling with what looked like a smile and he looked straight into Stiles' eyes as he answered, "Yes. I was going to ask you out for coffee."

Stiles held his breath.

"I don't know though," Derek muttered and searched Stiles' eyes, "I mean besides your last name _and_ your mothers maiden name. I'm pretty sure I've learned what I would have about you on a first date."

"You wouldn't have learne-" Stiles cast his gaze down, the pavement seemed to be laughing at him and he scowled back petulantly, "Right, sorry 'bout that."

"So I guess the second date would be dinner, right?" Derek asked.

Stiles snapped his head back up and smiled widely, "Yes! I think it would qualify as a suitable second date."

"Is that a yes to dinner? Or are you just agreeing with me?" Derek asked, obviously confused but still intrigued by Stiles, enough to continue at least.

"Both really, I mean-" Stiles began but was cut off by Derek waving his hands and shaking his head shortly.

"Good, that's good, how about you save it for the date? Here's my number," Derek said and procured a fancy black business card and handed it to Stiles.

"Derek Hale," Stiles said slowly reading the sleek black card with soft white letters, "Attorney at law. Woah, do I have to bring a copy of my criminal record on this date?"

"Do you have a criminal record?" Derek asked his eyes wide and incredulous.

"I mean no, my dad's the friggen' Sheriff, I would have been shot if I ever did anything unjust," Stiles said, laughing.

"Than no, you don't have to," Derek said and chuckled, he was again learning about Stiles' life without any notice.

"Okay, well um, I'll call you," Stiles said and raised the card up with a smile, "I really have to go. Thanks pole," He said and patted the pole that they had both run straight into. Which actually ended up with them running straight into each others lives, "Thanks, Derek, I mean for your help with picking me up and my stuff."

"You're welcome, Stiles," Derek replied and Stiles waved as he disappeared into the crowd once again.

This time he was left with the image of Derek's eyes crinkling with a fond smile creasing his lips. It was the best thing that happened to Stiles that day. The most important. All thanks to that _fucking_ pole.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Feel free to follow me over on [tumblr](http://yellowcityheart.tumblr.com) if you want to see more of my stupid tag prompts on the silliest posts~


End file.
